


Catch

by SpiritSails



Series: Felix [4]
Category: Felix the Cat (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 16:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19467733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritSails/pseuds/SpiritSails
Summary: A non-canon side story. Felix and Sheba go to a baseball game, and then...





	Catch

**Author's Note:**

> All entities belong to their respective owners. Creative liberties are taken.
> 
> Further Note: The events in this story never really took place.

At a legally distinct baseball stadium in the heart of New York, a small, black and white cat shot up out of his seat to catch a home run shooting like a star down the middle of the stands.

“Ouch!” screamed the cat, landing back in his chair with a smack as he rubbed his paw and winced in pain, “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“I’m impressed,” an equally small yellow cat in a red beret and leather jacket said as she grabbed and happily looked over the baseball her friend had caught. She turned it in her paws to marvel at the stitching.

“I’m in pain,” the black and white cat replied, taking off his baseball glove to reveal a beating, red paw that moments ago was just as black as the rest of him.

“Dang, F-man, I guess that’s the limit on your exercise this week,” said the yellow cat with a chortle.

“Sheba,” the black and white cat said simply.

“Felix,” the yellow cat replied with a mocking tilt of her head.

“You’re the worst,” Felix added.

“D'awww,” Sheba cooed as she bumped her elbow against Felix’s side.

At this, Felix had no choice to drop the charade and laugh, shaking his red paw back to normal.

“Happy Birthday, Sheba. Hope you’re liking your gift.”

Sheba leaned back in her seat and sighed.

“You mean two tickets to the biggest game of the season? This is great.”

“Great? That’s it?” Felix asked, jokingly, not taking his eyes off the game.

“That’s all you’re gonna get from me,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

Felix clarified, “That’s all I need.”

“Alright, folks!” crackled a voice over the stadium’s loudspeaker.

“Oh boy…” the cats said unison, senses dulled in anticipation of what was soon to come.

The voice over the loudspeaker, seeming louder and more obnoxious with every word, continued.

“It’s Couple’s Cam time again! Let’s see who’s ready for showtime in the stadium tonight…”

Ignoring the diatribe that filled the space, Felix elbowed Sheba.

“Wanna skip this mess and go to the concession stand?” he yelled, barely audible over the sound of the loudspeaker.

“Nah…” Sheba pondered, “I don’t wanna miss any of the game.”

So the cats watched as a pair of big, pink hippos blushed when the cam fell upon them ravenously sharing a tub of popcorn.

“Talk about embarrassing…” Felix said to Sheba.

They shook their heads as the camera spotted a stork as it dropped a baby on a young human couple who until that moment were suggestively curled up together in their seats.

“People just getting shown off against their will…” Sheba added.

They guffawed as a pair lemurs, epicly long tails wrapped together, shared a small kiss for the camera.

“No way that meant anything,” the cats said as one.

Then, in an instant, the moment went from wasteful to obscene.

The Couple’s Cam showed, sat awfully close together, Felix and Sheba. Staring wide-eyed at the jumbo screen that displayed it all, both cats’ eyes filled like balloons that were nearly fit to pop.

Instead, it was the cats themselves who burst. Figuratively, this time around.

“What?!” Felix yelled.

“No!” Sheba screamed.

“What?!” Felix yelled again.

“No!” Sheba screamed once more.

This went on for what the cats felt like twenty minutes, but for everyone else involved was more like ten excruciatingly awkward seconds.

Just as quick as the camera switched to another pair, Sheba stood up out of her seat and scurried off toward the great unknown of the inner workings of the stadium, leaving Felix to fend for himself against a crowd of onlookers curious about the scene they had just witnessed.

“So…” started a particularly large whale that took up a dozen seats, “Women, am I right?”

Not in the mood for casual sexism, Felix threw a half-empty bottle of soda he had been working on at the whale, who then proceeded to throw one of his many hot dogs at Felix, which Felix promptly dodged with a twist of his entire body, which in turn hit an innocent bystander.

Pretty soon that whole section of the stands had broken out into what a casual observer would call a food fight, but a true historian would refer to as a food war.

Having thoroughly shifted the crowd’s focus, Felix ran off to find Sheba. Sure enough, Sheba was in the first place he could think to look: The concession stand.

Standing there with a cheeseburger, Sheba looked over at Felix with a sigh.

“What’s up?“ Felix asked with a blush.

"I was hungry,” Sheba answered swiftly, “But if I’d known you were bringing food with you, I wouldn’t have come here.”

Felix looked himself over to realize he didn’t survive the food war without some scars. His fur was matted in soda, mustard was all over his chest, and popcorn was scattered along his head and shoulders. Felix laughed awkwardly and ate a piece of the popcorn.

“That was ridiculous, right? A couple? C'mon!” Felix said as he kept on laughing.

It took a moment or two, but soon Sheba’s face changed from apprehension to something resembling mirth.

“Yeah,” Sheba snorted, “You get two cats together and people go crazy.”

Sheba stepped closer to Felix, handing him a napkin.

“Sorry for freaking out,” Sheba said in a serious tone that made Felix flinch.

“Hey,” Felix started before stopping just as quickly, then starting again, “Me too. Just surprising, that’s all,” Felix adds.

“Yeah,” Sheba pondered “…It was a surprise.”

Felix nodded and followed Sheba back to the stands, where the cats had a comparatively quiet end to their evening. Well, as quiet as you can get at a baseball stadium, anyway.

-

Three days after the baseball game, Felix went to have lunch with another friend. For the first time in a long time, Felix had a salad. The food war had truly given him a rather temporary distaste for junk food.

“I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be picking popcorn off of me for a week,” Felix said to his friend while looking over what some cats, cats other than Felix, would call a meal.

Felix’s friend, a considerably larger, and rounder, orange cat with black stripes on his tail and the back of his head, stared at the salad with a shimmer of fear in his beady eyes.

“Is it alive?” Rosco asked in a whisper.

Poking at a cherry tomato with his fork, Felix pondered the lifecycle of vegetables.

“I think it dies as soon as you put dressing on it,” Felix finally answered.

Rosco wiped his forehead, all worry alleviated.

“So…” Rosco began, “What happened next?”

Felix shrugged, returning to the previous topic of conversation.

“I don’t know. Sheba and I met up at the concession stand, and then we went back to the game. It was so weird. Like I said, they expected us to kiss, but we just screamed at them. It was probably a nightmare for anyone watching.”

There was a brief lull in the conversation as Rosco processed the information presented to him. This can take anywhere from five to ten minutes.

“Well, do you wanna, Felix?” Rosco asked, scratching the back of his head.

“Want to what?” Felix asked, sniffing at a piece of lettuce hanging off his fork.

“Take Sheba on a date?” Rosco asked, nonplussed.

Felix dropped his fork.

“What? No! What?! No!!! What?!?” Felix began until Rosco held a french fry in front of the black cat’s nose.

Felix ate the french fry out of Rosco’s paw, aggressively shook his head, and returned to reality.

“Where’s that question even coming from?” Felix asked with wide eyes.

Continuing his streak of ignorance, Rosco shrugged.

“I dunno. You said you got Sheba a little cake for her birthday, and then you took her to a baseball game, and then you walked her home.”

“I do nice things for my friends… and she’s my friend?” Felix asked sheepishly.

“And that’s it?” Rosco asked.

Rosco’s question made Felix slowly deflate in his chair.

“Yes. No! Yes. Maybe? I don’t know! My head has been killing me. Sheba and I haven’t even texted in three days. This is ridiculous.”

“Maybe she’s just as confused as you are,” Rosco pondered, his finger to his chin.

“Pffft,” Felix stuck out his tongue, “Rosco, I’m gonna give Sheba a bit more credit than that.”

-

At her wit’s end, Sheba stood in the entryway of the lab belonging to the brilliant boy, the young marvel, the kid genius: Poindexter.

Poindexter, the pintsized human, wearing his graduation hat and lab coat with the special red button, was staring at a series of charts spread out over his workstation.

“I can’t believe it!” Poindexter screamed at the ceiling, “His Jaunty Jaguar speedrun strats… they’re… perfect! HOW?!”

“Uh, Pointy?” Sheba interrupted a huffing and puffing kid genius.

Poindexter immediately calmed down.

“Hiya, Miss Sheba!” Poindexter chirped, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I need… advice,” Sheba answered, her paws in the pockets of her leather jacket as she stared down at the laboratory floor.

“Oh, yes! Are you finally going to take me up on that offer of constructing that humongoid theremin? You could really rock out with that thing!” Poindexter said as he made theremin-playing gestures with his tiny hands.

“No way,” Sheba answered quickly, “It’s about a friend. I’ve been thinking lately about how… we might be more than friends, and I wanted to ask you a couple questions”

Poindexter’s jaw dropped down to the floor.

“You’re asking me for relationship advice?” Poindexter gasped, pointing at himself, flinching when he realized he almost pushed the button on his chest.

“Yeah,” Sheba flinched herself, realizing what asking Poindexter entailed, “I’m asking you because… I want a blank slate. I want someone who’s not been around the block a whole lot.”

Poindexter tilted his head.

“Howsat?”

“I wanted somebody who’s more brainy than romantic,” Sheba saved herself, “And you have such a big brain.”

The brilliant boy beamed boastfully.

“So who’s the friend?” Poindexter prodded, “Do I know him?”

“Yeah,” Sheba said before her eyes widened “I mean! Hold on. I don’t think you need to know, little guy.”

“I bet I do! I bet I could help you figure out your relationship inquiry even more precisely if I know who the other person involved in this relationship is.”

Sheba sighed for a solid five seconds.

“itsfelix” Sheba mumbled.

“Pardon?” Poindexter tilted his head again.

“It’sFelix,” Sheba said.

“A little slower, please?” Poindexter tilted his head the other way.

“It’s Felix the Cat.” Sheba said clearly and with a hint of annoyance, “My friend, and yours, Felix the Wonderful, Wonderful Cat. The World’s Most Famous Cat, The Cat With Ten Lives, and any of those dumb dang titles he hates.”

“Oh!” Poindexter smiled wide, “I’ve done all manner of experiments on Mr. Felix!”

“Um… okay,” Sheba said, worried.

Poindexter then proceeded to shoot up out of his chair, carelessly push every single one of his charts onto the floor, and then daintily press a few buttons at his workstation.

In a matter of moments, a display the size of your average suburban living room wall appeared above their heads, with photos and facts about several people Sheba recognized appearing on the screen.

“Pointy, man, what is all this?” Sheba asked as she stared awkwardly at the young marvel.

Poindexter simply nodded.

“It’s every piece of information that I’ve ever gathered relating to my friends, my friends’ friends, and my friends’ friends’ friends. Everything I’ve ever been told or happened to learn for myself through my experiments… it’s right here.”

Sheba stared up at the screen, looking at pictures of Felix screaming with his tail caught in a door, Felix screaming with a car driving over his foot, and Felix screaming at a horror movie Sheba remembered Felix saying didn’t bother him all that much.

“What are you doing with all this info?” Sheba asked.

Poindexter laughed a giddy little laugh.

“Until now? When I’m about to help you? Just collecting it.”

“Really?” Sheba asked with a curl of her mouth, “You get all these details on us and do nothing with it?”

“That’s right!” Poindexter said while doing that raised index finger thing all geniuses are wont to do.

“And you expect me to believe you?” Sheba asked, paws on her hips.

“I expect you not to worry about it,” Poindexter shrugged.

“Whatever, man,” Sheba said as she held her paw up.

“Hey,” Poindexter started, “If you can’t trust my giant supercomputer that knows more about you than you know yourself, who can you trust?”

“I can trust me,” Sheba answered simply.

At that, Poindexter opened up what was obviously Sheba’s file and typed furiously for ten seconds.

Sheba tapped her foot as she waited.

“Okay,” Poindexter said, finally done, “Let’s take some time to learn about Felix…”

“I just had two questions,” Sheba said quickly, hoping to stop the current train of events, but it was too late. At that precise moment, Sheba realized what she got herself into. She sat down on the floor and sighed while watching a Felix the Cat slideshow.

-

While Sheba dealt with the brains, Felix fought with his heart. The black and white cat was sat in his dingy, little apartment, listening to a jazz record. Heavy Weather: It wasn’t an album he listened to a lot, but he needed something active and bright to keep his mind preoccupied.

Unfortunately, by the time he got to the second track, the music came to remind him of a time that felt so long ago…

-

“Nice tunes,” Felix said to a yellow lady cat playing guitar just outside his apartment building. Felix had gone to the store to pick up some soda when on his way back home he saw this other cat playing away a jazzy tune.

The yellow lady cat didn’t even bother to look up at him.

“Start paying or keep walking, catboy.”

Felix threw a five in the yellow cat’s guitar case.

“Anything for good jazz,” he added.

Not missing a beat, the yellow cat played on as she said, “Alright, alright. Fine.”

“What’s your name?” Felix asked.

With a huff, and realizing that no one else was watching anyway, the yellow cat stopped playing and looked up at Felix with a deathly glare.

“Who’s asking?” the yellow cat asked back, paws gripping her guitar tight.

“Someone who likes good music,” Felix smiled casually.

“Don’t need to know my name to enjoy the music,” the yellow cat said with a curl of her lip.

Felix thought for just a moment.

“Yeah,” he started, “But I’d like to give the artist her proper credit.”

The yellow cat plucked a string on her guitar.

“Sheba,” she said while staring at the guitar.

“Nice name,” Felix said with a thumbs up.

“Heh. Thanks,” Sheba said as she looked away from Felix and started tuning her guitar.

Felix listened as Sheba started playing another jazz tune.

Felix recognized it.

“Hey,” Felix said, taking his trusty banjo out of wherever he was holding it, “Mind if I cut in?”

Sheba guffawed.

“The banjo? Wow, cool cat. You’re like a Poindexter at a rock show.”

“You know, I actually know someone named Poindexter, but anyway!” Felix said, plucking at a couple strings, “It works when you know how to play.”

At those words, Felix proceeded to play the flashiest banjo solo he could muster, fingers moving up and down the neck fast enough to set the instrument on fire. It’s a wonder he didn’t.

With a pair of wide eyes strapped to her head, Sheba had but one question.

“So what’s your name?”

“Felix,” the black and white cat said, beaming proudly as he played on.

“Alright, Felix… you can stay,” Sheba said as she joined in with Felix, the pair of cats improvising a tune that drew a whole crowd of two people. That was all they needed, though.

And so Felix did stay. For years.

-

The past fading away once more, Felix turned off the record, picked up his phone, and sent Sheba a quick text.

“Hey.”

It seemed like a reasonable start and it didn’t take long for him to get a reply.

“What’s up?”

Felix smiled. Here it goes.

“You doing much?”

“Trying to figure out the best way out of this science project Poindexter is making me watch.”

Felix laughed in his recliner.

“Uh oh. You need me to get you out of there?”

“No, but Poindexter told me about Mr. Fluffums.”

Felix shot up in his seat.

“Hey. He’s only there for the rough nights, Sheba.”

“Listen. I still sleep with a night light.”

Felix started pacing the apartment, bent forward, phone in his paws.

“HAH!”

“Mr. Fluffums.”

Felix scowled.

“Right.”

“I think I found a fun new game. You try and be smart with me, and I say Mr. Fluffums. Go ahead.”

With a flick of his tail, Felix got it done.

“Wanna go out with me tonight?”

“Mr. Fluffums.”

There was a long pause as three dots flashed and danced on the screen of Felix’s phone.

“Yes.”

-

And so the cats decided to meet later that evening at Le Mew, the fanciest cats-only restaurant in the neighborhood.

“You’re wearing a dress!” Felix pointed out the obvious, the black and white cat smiling wide at the realization as he walked toward Sheba just outside the restaurant’s front doors.

“You’re wearing a top hat?!” Sheba laughed in her purple party dress as she pulled down the brim of the hat over Felix’s eyes.

Felix stuck out his tongue, straightening out his red bow tie in the process.

“I wore it for some promotional material once…”

“What were you promoting? Old, rich jerks?” Sheba said before she stuck out her tongue as well.

Felix shrugged.

“Maybe. I can’t remember.”

Having thoroughly mocked each other, the cats went inside Le Mew. They were seated by the fish tank.

“Funny thing,” Felix started, “They have to put a lock on that tank to keep other cats from fishing out of it.”

Sheba stared back at the tank, looking for the lock.

“What are you talking about? I don’t see a–”

Felix started laughing. Sheba curled her mouth and grumbled in her chair.

“You’re such a gentleman,” Sheba said with crossed arms as she looked around the restaurant.

“You do look nice,” Felix said as before he sipped at his water.

At those words, Sheba started shifting in her seat.

A look of concern fell upon Felix’s face.

“Are you okay?” he asked, leaning forward.

“I feel like my heart just stopped,” Sheba muttered, looking around the room.

“Not used to taking honest compliments?” Felix asked with a smirk, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Not used to hearing them from you,” Sheba grumbled.

“Well, hey,” Felix started, “If we’re, well, doing what we’re doing, I might as well be honest with you.”

“What are we doing?” Sheba asked, flicking her ear.

“Honestly?” Felix shrugged, “I don’t know yet.”

“So,” Sheba said with certainty in her voice, “You don’t know what we are doing yet and you’re already changing yourself because of me?”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Felix sighed.

Other cats started to stare.

“Nothing you don’t mean,” Sheba said with a raised voice and a furrowed brow.

“Well,” Felix started, exasperated, “I meant it. You look nice.”

Sheba got up out of her chair.

“Maybe I do look nice. But… c’mon, F-man. That hat ain’t you. This place ain’t you. You aren’t… being you. I wanted to go on a date with Felix the Cat.”

Felix looked around the room, giving a small wave to a cat who recognized his name.

“Well, you are on a date with me,” Felix said, looking up at Sheba with a pair of uncertain eyes.

Sheba started toward the exit.

“No, I’m not.”

Taking a moment to process what just happened, Felix left some money on the table and ran out of Le Mew, hoping to catch Sheba. She was nowhere in sight.

Felix threw his top hat on the ground and jumped on it a few times, flattening it like a pancake. As he started on his way home, that cat he waved at earlier snuck out of the restaurant, took the flattened top hat, and walked right back inside the restaurant.

-

Felix scowled, paws behind his back as he kept on walking home.

“Did I make a mistake?” he asked himself, grumbling.

“No,” he answered, “I did what I thought was right.”

“Well,” Felix started, changing the tone of his voice, “Even people who think they’re in the right can be completely wrong.”

Felix shook his head.

“That sounded like something Sheba would say.”

At that, Felix’s phone vibrated. He checked it, and beyond the mass of emails telling him his various subscriptions would soon expire, he had a text from Sheba.

The text read: “I had a better idea. Meet me at my place.”

Felix ran.

-

Out of breath, Felix took a moment to dust himself off before knocking on Sheba’s apartment door. Clouds of dust filled the air, making Felix cough. Realizing he was still wearing his bow tie, he started to untie it, but decided to keep it on, readjusting it as he waited for Sheba.

Sheba answered the door in her usual outfit, rolling her eyes when he saw Felix’s bow tie.

“Hey,” Felix said, “I like it.”

Sheba laughed. The sound made Felix melt into the floor.

“Shut up and get in here,” she said.

Felix recollected himself and walked into Sheba’s apartment.

“I was getting tired of us embarrassing ourselves in public,” Sheba started, “So I figured we could enjoy a night in. I ordered a pizza, I made some popcorn, and I have several hundred movies, most of them terrible, for us to stream.”

“I gotta admit,” Felix said, sitting on Sheba’s couch, “That does sound like a good time.”

Looking satisfied with herself, Sheba sat on the other side of the couch. She started up a subpar comedy movie about a group of friends who do nothing but yell improvised lines at each other for an hour and a half.

“Heck yeah,” Felix hollered at the TV.

“You’re so dumb,” Sheba said, sticking her tongue out again.

“Can’t help it,” Felix hummed to himself, propping his feet up on Sheba’s ottoman.

Sheba sighed.

“Sorry about running off… again.”

Felix looked away from the movie, giving Sheba a small smile.

“Hey, I get you. It was a lot.”

And so the cats sat closer.

“We must have looked like idiots,” Sheba muttered.

“Where?” Felix laughed, the back of his head resting against his paws.

“Everywhere!” Sheba answered.

And they sat closer still.

“I ate a salad because of you, you know,” Felix said with a wink.

“You? A salad?” Sheba laughed.

“Salads are for chumps!” Felix yelled up at the ceiling.

“Chumps?” Sheba rolled her eyes, “F-man, how old are you?”

Closer and closer until…

A moment was shared. Everything made clear. This sort of time, no matter the place, carries with it a feeling unlike any other.

Pulling away from the kiss, the cats stared at each other for centuries, mouths agape, both of them at a loss for words. The moment carried with it a great anxiety. The room itself was painted with uncertainty. The cats knew that the next words that were said would define that first kiss for the rest of their lives.

“You have pizza breath,” Felix told Sheba.

Sheba kissed Felix again, on the cheek this time.

“I bet you love it,” she said, curled up against Felix.

Felix whispered to himself, “This is all I need.”

“Felix,” Sheba started, blushing.

“Yeah?” Felix answered, closing his eyes.

“I had two questions for you,” she sighed.

“Hit me,” Felix smiled.

“Do you promise we’ll still be friends?” Sheba asked, resting her head on his shoulder as Felix wrapped an arm around Sheba’s waist.

Felix smirked, “Always.”

“And do you promise to keep taking me on your dumb adventures?” Sheba asked, eyes closed as she found calm in the moment.

Felix closed his eyes as well.

Barely above a whisper, Felix answered, “Forever.”

They fell asleep together.


End file.
